In many instances, order is apprehended first of all by the senses.
quote by Rudolf Arnheim
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Thought Order v The Senses
Out of nothing but a need
From sense unsatisfying
Thought arose
Found its order gratifying.
The need for satisfaction
Is what brought it all about.
Something about the senses
Thought order put to rout.
The degrees of satisfaction
Existing in the senses
Enable thought to overwhelm
Sensual pretences.
poem by Douglas Scotney
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The Poet
Thought order
Not to be denied,
In bed
You turn aside,
Senses
Unsatisfied,
Order thought
for Danny Draper (Dabedra)
poem by Douglas Scotney
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Failure of actions
Instances were there where I over read
The women’s behavior, and fell apart.
Instances must be there where I fail to read
The women’s behavior, and lost them.
04.03.2004
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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I go to nature to be soothed and healed, and to have my senses put in order.
quote by John Burroughs
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I believe in a long, prolonged, derangement of the senses in order to obtain the unknown.
quote by Jim Morrison
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Which is chaste?
My eyes are sharper than swords.
Your attention was held.
My words are sharper than eyes.
Your heart was won.
My pen is sharper than words.
Your senses struggle.
Is my sharpest weapon blunt
‘Cause your senses are strong?
No, your senses are iron sheathed.
Else, your senses are the weakest.
The senses shown can be visible.
Hence you dread to show.
The shown heart, who knows?
Hence, you dare to concede.
Heart, more precious, is given.
Yet you guard your senses.
Throne is lost; sword is guarded.
War is lost; battle is waged.
Kings are friendly; subjects only war.
Heart is given; senses are withheld.
Visibly chaste; Invisibly what?
13.06.99
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Screen The Sufferings
With the senses you know the world.
The senses awake, you're aware.
The unbridled senses lead to lust.
The sensory objects induce greed.
With the mind you build ambition
And ignore the path to attain.
With the ego you feel importance
And want at any cost to achieve.
Senses, mind and ego reined,
Suffering is screened.
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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On the Critical Attitude
The critical attitude
Strikes many people as unfruitful
That is because they find the state
Impervious to their criticism
But what in this case is an unfruitful attitude
Is merely a feeble attitude. Give criticism arms
And states can be demolished by it.
Canalising a river
Grafting a fruit tree
Educating a person
Transforming a state
These are instances of fruitful criticism
And at the same time instances of art.
poem by Bertolt Brecht
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Nothing need be apprehended from this miserable adventurer.
quote by Louis Bonaparte
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Pie In The Sky
It takes photon power
And eight minutes of an hour
To make it to our sun
And I know it sounds weird
But itll take you four years
To make the next one
Expanding border
Thats the sauce
Of chaos
And thats an order
Thats an order
So stomp your feet
And clap your hands
Get out of your seat
And do a little dance
Lift up your voice
And sing with glee
Now listen carefully to me
Desert your quarters
Behold the pie in the sky
And thats an order
Thats an order
Thats an order [7x]
song performed by by Frank Black
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Blake said that the body was the soul's prison unless the five senses are fully developed and open. He considered the senses the 'windows of the soul.' When sex involves all the senses intensely, it can be like a mystical experence.
quote by Jim Morrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Pushing The Senses
Finishing avenue
Pulling you under now
Your fighting the undertow
Before it sucks you down
Pushing the senses
It's pushing the senses now
Come on come on
What are you going to do
You can't find another day
Come on come on
You're pushing the senses
You're pushing the senses through
Always, I can depend on you
But sometimes
It's burning a hole right through
Let's talk about it
Staring at photographs
Post it on the wall
Images smiling down
The face of a lonely soul
Come on come on
What are you going to do
You can't find another day
Come on come on
You're pushing the senses
You're pushing the senses through
Always
'cause I can depend on you
But sometimes
I'm finding it hard to choose
Let's talk about it
Always
I can depend on you
But sometimes
It's burning a hole right through
Let's talk about it
Let's talk about it
Always
I can depend on you
But sometimes
Sometimes
Always
I can depend on you
But sometimes
It's burning a hole right through
Let's talk about it
Always
I can depend on you
But sometimes
It's burning a hole right through
Keep pushing the senses through
Let's talk about us
song performed by by Feeder
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The place beyond between
Not named as joy;
not named as happiness..
at the end of a thought
the eyes lifted; then,
only the senses;
only the senses’ action seen;
only the endless beauty
of the beautiful unnamed;
only the glory of the food
of the senses unattached;
where is the mind
in this perfect satisfaction?
who needs to name this blessing,
blithe? or to name it, bliss?
beyond a name;
yet known.
*
poem by Michael Shepherd
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Eight senses
(poetry in progress)
the world starts out
with a consciousness
half a consciousness
then one consciousness
then they morph with one sense,
ask the mountain
they stand and stand until the
volcanoes start to throw them out
then two senses, ask the trees
and the shrubs criss crossing
with your paths in the field
they stand and stand, take
the sunshine and make green
a colour for continuous evolution
their only shortcoming is their
two sense world, they stand and stand
a state of being, a state of living
and that's all
the three senses, the four senses
and the five senses, the human beings
they cry to God to let them
have eternal life
but what ever that's for
without the sixth, seventh, or eight sense
unveiled to them
sixth, the sense to connect the past
with the future
the seventh, the sense to connect
the future with the million of consciousness
clarmouring for the eight senses
to be with the ultimate, the Om,
the Divine where all senses
come together with one Supreme
consciousnes, amalgamation of
senses where knowledge springs forth
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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We Still Have War That Leads To Terrorism
That we learn from our past mistakes in some instances a lie
For God and Flag and Country so many still prepared to die
In a World of millions of Homeless people where poverty is rife
We still have war that leads to terrorism and disrespect for human life
Of war and battles fought and won the war men love to sing
In many instances from the past we have not learned a thing
One war leads to another war in most cases is true
The Karma that we reap from life it only is our due
More news of war and terrorism with every new day
We have not learned from the past that does seem fair to say
A life for a life as well as an eye for an eye
Amongst the unforgiving only does seem to apply
The past may well be in the past and to the forever gone
But some find it hard to forgive and old hatreds do live on.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Grant that the true organ with which the beautiful is apprehended is the imagination, and it follows that all arts are likely to affect the feelings indirectly.
quote by Eduard Hanslick
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Intelligence is quickness to apprehend as distinct from ability, which is capacity to act wisely on the thing apprehended.
quote by Alfred North Whitehead
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Intelligence is quickness to apprehend as distinct form ability, which is capacity to act wisely on the thing apprehended.
quote by Alfred North Whitehead
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Since I've Come To My Senses
Giving up on my life,
To not sleep peacefully at night.
With a pacing of the floor...
Back and forth and uptight.
Not anymore.
Since I've come to my senses,
Open are those doors I've closed before.
Giving up on my dreams,
To witness them flow downstream...
Panicked.
Not anymore.
Since I've come to my senses,
Down came those fences...
And defenses raised.
Doing things for others to see them pleased,
With approval unshown...
They appreciated me.
Not anymore.
Since I've come to my senses.
I will not be accused,
For something done I did do.
To then feel used and psychologically abused...
With an inflicting of my own torment?
No!
Not anymore...
Since I've come to my senses.
Giving up on my life to feel accepted,
As a focused objective to have others reject...
No.
Not anymore.
I've closed those doors.
There are so many others I had to learn to open,
With a coming to my senses.
Before I prevented so much I now can see.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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There Our Senses Touch
There our senses touch.
In the fields of...
Fresh grass scented.
To glisten with dew,
Lifted,
By a dawning morning...
Clear.
Bright.
And appetizing awakening eyes.
There our senses touch.
With an open window nearby.
Where the 'is' and 'why' of life,
Breezes through fields God gives...
To make the experience of it,
Flagrant with inconsistent fragrance shifting.
From day to day.
As if to outdo each creation made.
There our senses touch.
In the fields of...
All there is to life.
And to know it can not be simply lived,
If not witnessed.
There our senses touch.
Outside of ourselves.
With none of it to be lived,
To sit on fences.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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